


A Thousand Years

by Xhafsn



Category: Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard - Rick Riordan, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan, The Kane Chronicles - Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst, Annabeth Chase & Thalia Grace Friendship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, POV Thalia Grace, Post-Canon, Thalia Grace & Percy Jackson Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:40:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28449315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xhafsn/pseuds/Xhafsn
Summary: It's Thalia's 120th birthday if she had aged normally, and it's consequently an unpleasant time for her. She goes to visit an old friend to help her pass this difficult day.One-shot Post-CanonI do not own Rick Riordan's stories.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Luke Castellan/Thalia Grace, Magnus Chase & Alex Fierro, Magnus Chase & Thalia Grace
Comments: 2
Kudos: 44





	A Thousand Years

I've had a lot of bad days in my time as the Lieutenant of the Hunt. That's a dramatic understatement, of course. Just to think that over 100 years has gone by since I accepted the offer. 

That was not a pleasant day in my life. I discovered that the boy I loved turned evil. He abused our other friend, a little girl we had found in an alleyway when she was seven. I was twelve then, and now, I've been perpetually a day away from being sixteen since that day. 

They say that time heals all wounds, but in my experience, the opposite is true. Time is the ultimate cause of wounds. Death and other tragedies wouldn't happen if time stood still. Happy things wouldn't either, but happiness is so fleeting. Despair and sadness seem to be the permanent, default state of mind. 

Today, I've decided to visit an old friend. I finally found a chance to be in Massachusetts. I began my time off as soon as I stepped foot in the state. I trekked my way to Boston from the state line, not really minding the long distances on foot. 100 years of being on foot all the time does that to a person. 

When I finally reach Boston city limits, I make my way to Beacon Street. This seems to be the only street to not have changed dramatically in a century. Every other place I knew in this city, like my favorite falafel shop, has disappeared. I've had to update my knowledge of this city so many times. It was annoying at first, but eventually, you get used to it.

I eventually reach the massive limestone wall that signifies I'm where I need to be. The wall blends into the rest of the cityscape to the average mortal, but demigods like me know what's up. The wall is nothing but pure glamour. It's not like the Mist, but it's related. I simply back up a few steps, then run headfirst into the wall. 

I pass through the wall and into a nice courtyard. Boston has gotten a lot colder in the winter over this century, a consequence of climate change, but this place feels like just the right temperature year-round. The courtyard belongs to a grayish-white eight-story tall mansion. I walk up the steps and am greeted by a doorman. 

"Who do we have here?" he asks, clearly rhetorically and good-naturedly. "If it isn't Thalia Grace."

"Hello Hunding," I greet. "You know who I'm here to meet. I hope they're done with practice today."

"Forty years and you still don't remember the schedule," Hunding says, shaking his head and laughing. "We never have practice on Sundays. Those are reserved for quest launches, so we need everyone to be not dead. Anyway, make your way to the desk, get your helmet, and they should be on Floor 19."

"Thanks," I say. 

I make my way to the front desk and do my usual guest sign.

"Welcome back, Lieutenant," the man greets.

"Please, Helgi, it's Thalia," I say, half-serious in tone. "Anything new happened lately?"

"Not really," Helgi says. "It's been a quiet couple of decades. I can get used to this, honestly. The 2000s and 2010s were by far the most hectic."

"Yes, yes," I say. "The good-old days."

I meant that in jest, but it came out much more earnestly than I expected.

"Immortality is not something you'll get used to," Helgi says, understanding my tone immediately. "Even when you want to joke, there will always be some nostalgia for the past. Good times come with the bad, you know? It all cycles back eventually."

"I suppose," I say. "I'll be on my way to Floor 19."

"Have a nice stay, Thalia," Helgi replies. "If you need a room, let me know."

I put on the helmet to mark me as an Honorary Einherji. See, this place is Hotel Valhalla, the Norse afterlife. All the heroes who died in action in history are chosen to go either to here or Folkvangr, save for Greeks, Romans, Egyptians, and whoever else isn't Norse or Western. What brings me to a place like this as a living Greek demigod? One of the last persons with a connection to my past. 

I take the elevator up to Floor 19, then quickly check the rec room. Sure enough, all of them are there. The first person who greets me is Mallory Keen, who I would've seen a mile away anyway. Her red hair will always be this vibrant and long. It reminds me so much of Rachel Elizabeth Dare, the first Priestess of Delphi last century. In her youth, her hair was just as bright, frizzy, and vibrant. Their personalities could not have been farther apart. Rachel was an artsy and quirky person. It made her somewhat endearing in her youth and a bit eccentric in her later years. Mallory is fierce and imposing, a consequence of her godly heritage. 

The next person to greet me is Halfborn Gunderson. He is a gigantic man, a mortal berserker in his first life, and the oldest one out of all of us. He's been here for thousands of years. I can't even imagine how much older he is than all of us and how he hasn't gone crazy yet. He says his secret is to never stop learning. True to his words, he has a PhD in every single subject known to man and vast volumes of stories, research papers, inventions, patents, and art to his name. He's easily the smartest person I've ever known, and he has an older man's wisdom to go with it. This sophistication contrasts so extremely with his battle style. His ability to tank hits always astounds me.

The next is TJ. His real name is Thomas Jefferson Jr, but he's certainly not the former President. Even after almost three centuries, he insists on wearing his American Civil War Union uniform. His patches show his allegiance to the 55th Massachusetts, the all-black unit that served at Fort Wagoner. He's the son of Tyr, Norse counterpart to Ares, but in personality, he reminds me of children of Nike, ever so competitive and unable to turn down a challenge. I thought I was an ambitious person, but he's at least an order of magnitude more.

Then it's Alex Fierro, the genderfluid child of Loki. Her shapeshifting reminds me so much of Frank Zhang, the former Roman Praetor and one of my brother's best friends. Personality-wise, she would've hit it off with Leo Valdez, that little twerp of a son of Hephaestus. Her awful taste in color palette hasn't changed in a century, still insisting on wearing pink and green. It doesn't get any better when she's in male form. 

And lastly, the person I wanted to see more than anyone else here. His shoulder-length blond hair and gray eyes make him look so much like Kurt Cobain, but he's not my second-favorite singer. He's the last "living" family member of one of the people who perpetually haunt my memories. With him around, I feel like I have someone who can truly understand what I'm feeling. 

"You're back," says Magnus Chase, not a hint of surprise in his voice. "The clock strikes twelve again."

"Good to see you, Magnus," I say.

"You know, I kind of miss the punky and sarcastic Thalia that first greeted me when you started to visit," Magnus says. "Time has definitely softened you."

Another lifetime ago, I would've been exactly what he described me as, punky and sarcastic, and had plenty of verbal ammo to back me up. Four decades of this later, I've become more and more dejected and earnest. 

"I miss her too, Magnus," I say. "But time has worn me down too much. I can't even put on a strong face anymore when these months pass by."

"Of course," Magnus says. "Just as I have come to start accepting and predicting your visits in April, July, August and December. Those four months all hold special places in your heart."

"Yeah," I say, sighing a little. 

"So, you're here for your therapy session?" Magnus jokes.

He intended it to be a joke, but after forty-odd years of keeping this up, I can't call it anything other than that. We go off to the chairs on the other side of the rec room. 

"You know what day it is?" I ask.

"December 21," Magnus says. "The day you accepted immortality. I know the reason it bothers you is because Annabeth was there that day."

"Yeah," Thalia says. "I still can't believe she's gone. She lived longer than any of our friends did, much longer than the average demigod, but she was also the last one left. Forty years, Magnus, and the pain is still fresh."

"I miss her too, Thalia," Magnus says. "I miss all of them. Percy and Annabeth were lucky, though. They both lived to their seventies."

"They say that talking helps you cope, but we've had this conversation for forty years now," I say. "Forty years of reminiscing and allowing ourselves to indulge in our past, but time still hasn't healed these wounds. If anything, they're fresher than ever."

"I know," Magnus says. "How's Zoe?"

"She's good," I say. "Her grandmother's passing is still as hard on her now as when she was 10. Even after thirty-five years in the Hunt, she still asks me to tell her stories about Annabeth. I'm lucky to still have her around. Other than you, she's the only one who understands."

"That's good," Magnus says. "What about Cassie?"

"Cassie and Brayden are doing well. They're happily retired in Florida, living well even into their late 80s. I still get miffed her about calling me 'Aunt Thalia' though." 

"It's kind of sad to think all living Chases are descendants of Percy and Annabeth," Magnus says. "We were once the godly Chase family, the gods' special clan. We even adopted that custom from 'Beautiful Creatures' for all women to keep their maiden name to mark ourselves apart. Gods, we miss Annabeth so much I remembered a book she read almost 100 years ago."

"I know," I say. "What do you guys plan to do today?"

"Not much, really," Magnus says. "The times have been quiet. We haven't had to do a major quest or even minor tasks in decades. You wanna play some chess?"

"No," I say. "Today, it reminds me too much of Annabeth and Leo. They used to play all the time until Leo passed in 2031. He was the second to go, after Jason."

"The rest of the gang's playing poker," Magnus suggests.

"Nope," I say. "That game gave Percy PTSD flashbacks."

"Connect-4?" he continues.

"I played all the time with Cassie," I say.

"Gods, Thalia, we'll need a whole new board game to cheer you up!" 

"I can't help the fact that Annabeth loved board games, okay?" I exclaim. "Gods, this entire room reminds me of her. This room and Halfborn's room."

"I see," Magnus says. "I guess you can watch us play for a bit. Maybe we can cheer up at dinner."

As I sat there watching them play poker and later chess, I can't help but remember Annabeth's commentary from decades ago. All the little mistakes that she would point out to our group. All the times she won. But even worse were first times we played these games after someone passed. Those memories are clearer than all the rest. 

"Gods, Leo would've won as black already."

"I wish Piper was here today."

"Nico would've won this hand. He loved raising Q-3."

"Will always played Ne4."

"Frank's favorite chess opening is the Dutch Defense."

"Sadie always got pocket aces."

Annabeth's random commentary keeps rattling off in my head. My heart clenches ever so slightly more with each thought, but they can never hurt as much as they used to. Forty years have been enough. I don't know if I can stand this after thousands of years. I have a feeling I'll still be here in 3007, chatting to Magnus about things that happened between the most eventful four years of my life. That literally was a lifetime ago, and it feels longer than the other ninety-five. 

Even at dinner, I still didn't feel any better. Time can't heal all the wounds, and I resent it for being like this. 


End file.
